


Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo

by Ebyru



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, Humor, M/M, Plot What Plot, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-08
Updated: 2012-04-08
Packaged: 2017-11-03 07:26:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/378831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ebyru/pseuds/Ebyru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared is a secret agent, and he has to take rookie!Misha on a mission with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo

**Author's Note:**

> My friend kimberlelly at lj prompted this: "jared/misha aaaaand a job gone wrong. With extra crack-iness!”
> 
> Unbeta'd. And don't look for an actual story. lol

Jared is the top dog of his agency. He was the first and youngest agent to have been granted permission to work on a contract _solo_. Everyone at the agency likes him. Perhaps Jared takes that for granted, and surely some of the missions he embarks upon would be faster with a partner, but he really doesn’t want to deal with someone who can’t keep up. It didn’t encourage him that every time he’d had a partner it was a female, and she would try to get in his pants _during_ their job.

 

Jared is not only the top dog, he’s a lone wolf. And he intends to keep his reputation intact for as long as possible (or at least until he dies).

 

Missions are sorted by difficulty; A being the hardest and F being the easiest. Jared is mostly given B-rank missions because—although he is very talented—he no longer lets the agency match him up with a partner, even when it’s another man. (Jared doesn’t want to think about that one time Jensen had practically sat on his lap.)

 

Jared is patient, however, and one day the agency allows him to take on an A-rank mission on his own. He was studying the file almost religiously, trying to prove to them that he was ready. All he had to do was find a Russian double agent, and place a tracker on his person while the agency decided what to afterwards. It was simple enough considering Jared didn’t need to get his hands dirty for once.

 

The one thing that wasn’t mentioned in the file was that this double agent was a master of disguise, and Jared finds out the hard way.

 

\----------

 

Jared is on one knee, looking through binoculars at a sea of people. Russian spies were always known for their efficiency. He peers around the crowd, trying his best to match a face to the picture in his grasp. What makes matters worse is just how ordinary the double agent looks. He has dirty blond hair, brown eyes, and is about 5’10. There is nothing physically outstanding about him. It’s his cunning, his skills that would have to provide Jared with any type of help spotting him.

 

Jared keeps watching, sifting through blond haired men. None of them seem particularly cautious or worried about anything.

 

There’s a man with light brown hair that stops next to a fence, looking from side to side nervously. Jared focuses on him; hair colour can be changed easily. The man smiles and relaxes when a younger woman runs up to him, kissing him on the cheek. It couldn’t be him.

 

There’s rustling behind Jared, but he doesn’t think anything of it. He’s hidden among trees and grass at a darker corner of the park; no one should be able to see him. Jared thinks it must be a squirrel or some other furry animal.

 

Then there’s rustling, again.

 

Jared turns to see what it is this time, and is greeted by a blow to the head by a gun. He’s not certain, but he thinks it _probably_ was the double agent he’s been waiting for.

 

Jared wakes up with a splitting headache and a black eye. Whomever it was that hit him, they took all his equipment—including the file he’s been compiling for weeks. This is going to ruin his reputation.

 

\----------

 

“I’m sorry Jared,” Bobby says from behind his desk. Bobby is the person in charge of teaming agents up, and allocating missions. But he doesn’t have the final say. That was someone only Bobby ever met, someone higher up still. “He told me you’ve been stripped of the privilege.”

 

“Are you kidding?” Jared answers incredulous. “This is the first time I’ve messed up. _Anything_.”

 

“I know how you feel kid,” Bobby leans in, rubbing the back of his neck, “but this is what he’s decided.”

 

“That’s bullshit, and you know it, Bobby,” Jared snaps. “I can’t work with a partner. Can’t I do a C-rank on my own?”

 

“You’d rather do an easier job by yourself than continue your mission with help?” Bobby asks, narrowing his eyes. “And no, you can’t.”

 

“God, this is ridiculous. And who is the guy?” Jared says, trying to remain calm.

 

“Misha Collins,” Bobby takes out a file. “It’s his first time on the field, but his tests were all promising. You might have to show him a thing or two, though.”

 

“Great. So,” Jared turns, ready to leave the office, “I’m stuck not only working with someone else, but a rookie. Thanks. I appreciate your kindness for my work so far.”

 

Bobby rolls his eyes, “Suck it up, Jared. Redeem yourself and we’ll see where it goes after. Unless you’d rather be unemployed?”

 

Jared sighs, nodding. “Fine. I’ll do my best.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Nice to finally meet a pro,” Misha says, putting a hand out.

 

Misha is a slight, older man. The first thing that bothers Jared is just how inappropriately dressed he is for an agent. Agents are meant to represent their company by being at the top of their game physically and mentally. A rainbow coloured tie, navy blue sweater, forest-coloured slacks and burgundy shoes really did not represent them correctly. Misha looks like some kind of ice cream flavour only children would eat.

 

Jared is thoroughly irritated by his ‘partner’ from the get-go.

 

“I’m sure,” Jared answers, despite trying to keep his tongue in check. He doesn’t shake Misha’s hand. They won’t be around each other for long if he can help it. “Nice to meet you, too.”

 

“So, I heard you lost all your intel,” Misha smiles. He’s definitely not trying to get Jared back for the rudeness.

 

“I have,” Jared answers, looking away before he smashes his fist through the closest wall. Those innocent blue eyes were really misleading. “What’s your point?”

 

“I was collecting some of my own,” Misha beams. “That’s what _us_ office agents do all day.”

 

Perhaps Jared could have a use for Misha after all, “That’s great. Can I see it?”

 

“I don’t know,” Misha utters, “what if you lose mine as well?”

 

Jared is convinced this rookie has a death wish. It’s time to put him in his place.

 

“Listen, _Misha_ ,” Jared steps into the shorter man’s space, “I am your superior on this mission. Do you know why? Because I have acquired 20 ways to murder a man with my bare hands.”

 

Misha gulps. Jared smiles and steps back.

 

“I’ll go get the papers. They’re in my office,” Misha shuffles off.

 

After a few minutes of looking through the pages, Jared realizes this guy found out a lot more than he had. But it’s obvious that would be the case since Jared has done nothing but field work for the past two years. He had worked at his desk for all of a month when he first joined.

 

“Okay,” Jared says after he’s done, “I think we should go to the parade. It seems like he prefers meeting his contacts in broad daylight, surrounded by people.”

 

“I agree,” Misha steps back when Jared glares. “I mean, of course. Anything you say, boss.”

 

 _Boss_. Jared likes the sound of that.

 

\----------

 

Jared is on a street corner, looking back and forth as floats pass by. Misha is biting his nails, fiddling with his puke-coloured tie. Where does he find this stuff? Jared forces his eyes away from that insult to fashion and back to the parade going down the street.

 

“I heard he’s good at blending in,” Misha says after a moment.

 

“His specialty is disguises,” Jared adds dryly. He really wishes he could have found that out sooner.

 

“Really?” Misha tilts his head, smoothing a hand down his tie.

 

Jared is looking at it again. It makes him want to throw up.

 

There’s a scream suddenly from one of the floats, and a man starts fleeing. Jared grabs Misha’s arm and drags him when he doesn’t react fast enough to the shriek. Misha is hyperventilating, but still manages to pull out his gun.

 

“What are you doing?!” Jared snaps. “We’re in the middle of hundreds of people. Put that away!”

 

“Right, right,” Misha nods, “I just heard the scream, and got worried, and thought I’d have to shoot someone.”

 

“Did you _see me_ take out my gun?” Jared growls, “Never mind. He’s getting away.”

 

They run down the street, opposite the flow of the parade, and Jared stops in his tracks when he realizes Misha isn’t behind him anymore.

 

“Misha!” Jared yells.

 

“I’m here,” Misha says from the sidewalk. “I couldn’t get my gun back in my pants, and I can’t tell if the safety is on or off. What if I shoot myself in the leg by accident? Oh my god, what if I shoot myself in the—”

 

“Goddammit, Misha,” Jared spits, “give it to me.”

 

Jared takes the gun, clicks the safety on and slips it in his own jacket. Misha would seriously kill someone if Jared let him keep it. Misha is leaning on a lamp post, hyperventilating again. Jared looks from him to the man still steadily fleeing down the road. He doesn’t have time to babysit.

 

“Take a deep breath,” Jared says. Misha inhales, squeezing the lamp post. “Now find your balls, wherever they are, and let’s go.  He’s getting away.”

 

Misha nods, letting go of the post.

 

Jared starts running again, and Misha is a few paces behind. They finally reach an area with less people so Jared hands Misha his gun back. He takes out his own and clicks off the safety. Misha clears his throat behind Jared, startling the taller man.

 

“What?” Jared grumbles.

 

“I was told we had to alert the agency as soon as any part of our plan changed,” Misha declares. “And this is definitely a change.”

 

Jared rolls his eyes and drags a hand down his face, “We’re not in some simulation, Misha. He may have hurt someone back there. We need to take him down now.”

 

“But I think we should tell them,” Misha says, “we don’t even know if this is the guy.”

 

“How the hell did you get this job with me?” Jared spits, ignoring the hurt across Misha’s face. “We’re going, so come on.”

 

Jared jogs a bit, watching the man zigzag between parked cars and slip in between two buildings. They could stop him in there.

 

“He’s getting away!” Misha shouts.

 

Two shots go off, and Jared ducks not to get any bullets in the head. He turns back and Misha is holding his gun pointed at the alley, his hands shaking.

 

“What the fuck?!” Jared growls. “You could have blown my head off. Why are your eyes fucking _closed_?”

 

“Sorry? I got scared when I heard the sound,” Misha shrugs a shoulder. Jared takes Misha’s gun from him, scowling.

 

“I’m not giving this back. _Ever_ ,” Jared says flatly. “Follow me.”

 

Jared rushes across the street and into the alley. The agent is talking to someone else when they get there, so he doesn’t see them arrive. There’s someone very unhappy and tall next to the double agent. That someone has a gang of people behind him, and they all have machine guns.

 

There’s a sound like a cross between a cat giving birth and a blender turning on. Jared realizes it’s Misha crying.

 

“Shhh,” Jared whispers. “You’re gonna get us killed.”

 

Misha rubs his nose on his sleeve and steps behind Jared to hide. They back up, trying not to draw attention to themselves. Misha trips on his ugly burgundy shoes and brings Jared down with him next to a raucous garbage can. Misha starts crying louder.

 

“Run!” Jared says, pushing Misha out of the lane.

 

The bullets start flying, and Jared is surprised by how much like a helicopter the automatic weapons sound. It really isn’t subtle for people who’ve been in hiding so well. Misha is sniffling, trying to see through his blubbering, and Jared is tired of this bullshit, so he grabs Misha and puts him on his back.

 

The men approach, and all Jared is hoping is that he won’t die with a coward like Misha clinging to his shoulders.

 

There’s a small bridge up ahead with hardly anyone around. Jared notices it, and remembers his safe house being on the other side. He won’t make it to the bridge without one of them getting shot, though. Not since he’s stuck carrying this fool.

 

Jared leaps into the current, having to suffer through a high pitch squeal from Misha (that has surely busted his eardrum). The men stop at the edge of the bridge, but don’t stop shooting.

 

When they’re far enough underwater, Jared holds Misha’s arm, warning him not to go up for air yet. After Misha looks like he’s going to drown, Jared drags him to the surface. By then, the men have all gone. Fortunately, Misha can at least swim while crying. He’s a lot heavier than he looks.

 

They make it to the other side after a few minutes, and Jared drags a reluctant Misha behind him by his putrid tie.

 

Misha rubs his face on his sleeve again, pulling his tie away from Jared abruptly, “Where are we going? You ruined my favourite outfit.”

 

“ _Favourite_ outfit?” Jared stops walking and Misha bangs into him, not expecting it. “You ruined our entire mission, you ass!”

 

Misha looks down at his tie, toying with it, “They had machine guns.”

 

“I know,” Jared rolls his eyes. “We’re going to _my_ safe house since I’m sure you don’t have one.”

 

Misha is quiet because he can’t deny it’s true, but Jared can see the ridiculous pout from his peripheral vision all the same.

 

\----------

 

“Who the fuck trained you, seriously?” Jared mutters, practically ripping off his wet jacket. “You were _crying_. Bobby said you had a lot of potential.”

 

Misha tilts his head, opening his mouth for a moment, until Jared pushes down his pants and steps out of them. Misha’s mouth stays open, but he doesn’t say anything. Jared is fuming as he pulls his dress shirt over his head, not worrying about the buttons flying in all directions.

 

“That was the worst reaction I’ve ever seen,” Jared says, folding his wet clothing.

 

Misha doesn’t want to look up or answer. Jared is making him feel even more inadequate now that he’s seen his body—practically all of it. Everything about Jared screams perfect secret agent. Misha fiddles with his tie some more, shuffling over to the leather couch. He just wants to sit there quietly, and leave when he’s told it’s safe again.

 

“Undress before you ruin my couch,” Jared snaps.  “Or before I slice through your hideous clothes. Then, you can hobble off back to headquarters in your tighty-whities.”

 

Misha hears there’s still anger, but less. Jared’s cooling down. “How did you know?” Misha answers playfully.

 

“Just a lucky guess,” Jared answers. “You seem to like following rules.”

 

“Oh, really?” Misha asks, raising a brow. Misha likes rules, but he also likes bending them.

 

Misha gets up, pulling off his tie first and putting it across Jared’s table. Jared didn’t say Misha couldn’t ruin the table instead.

 

Jared’s back is turned as he looks through the closest for towels to use. When he looks back, Misha is standing in his aforementioned _tighty-whities_ with his hands on his hips. He looks surprisingly different without clothes on, not that Jared is paying attention. Not really.

 

“Now what?” Misha questions, a hint of something that pikes Jared’s curiosity underneath the words.

 

“You can take a shower, and I have some clothes that you can wear,” Jared clears his throat when Misha strides toward him. “Not sure if it’ll fit.”

 

“Anything is fine,” Misha smiles, handing Jared his wet clothes.

 

\-----------

 

Misha finishes up in the shower and steps out in one of Jared’s casual, plaid shirts. The collar is the biggest problem because it’s falling off both shoulders. He has shorts underneath, but the shirt is so long on him it looks like he doesn’t. Jared closes his eyes, pushing the thoughts of his partner—the one wearing his clothes, with pale skin and deep blue eyes—out of his head before he ends up breakings his one, dangerous rule again.

 

Apparently, it really wasn’t just Jensen and female partners Jared had to worry about.

 

“Listen,” Jared starts, “maybe you should consider a career change. I don’t think you’re cut out for this secret spy stuff.” He’s just trying to be honest and help the poor guy.

 

“Who asked you?” Misha says, crossing his arms. His shirt lifts with the motion, and he really isn’t naked underneath. Thank the heavens.

 

“I’m just telling you what I saw,” Jared says softly. “You were crying, Misha. I had to carry you.”

 

“No one asked you to do that,” Misha snaps, narrowing his eyes. “I just didn’t expect to deal with machine guns.”

 

“You’re never going to know what to expect,” Jared replies.

 

“Doesn’t give you the right to tell me what I should and should not do,” Misha retorts. “In fact, I don’t like how you’ve been treating me since we’ve met.”

 

“Hey, I’m just telling you from experience,” Jared slips his hands in his pockets, “ _You know_ —that stuff you don’t have yet?”

 

“Okay, that’s it,” Misha pushes his sleeves up, “I’m going to kick your ass for that.”

 

Jared knows he shouldn’t be so amused by this side of Misha. But he can’t fight the smirk, and Misha tackles him to the ground. Jared is laughing so hard he can’t fight back properly, and Misha is punching both of his sides, trying to make him stop. Misha grumbles and Jared is red in the face from the whole situation.

 

“How are you so big? It’s not fair,” Misha huffs, indignant and tired.

 

“It’s just a gift,” Jared grins.

 

Jared’s suddenly aware of how close they are, how tightly he’s holding onto Misha’s hips when the slighter man shifts. Misha is straddling him in Jared’s shirt, and looking very edible. This is not good. Jared can’t let this happen again.

 

“I’m on top,” Misha declares, “so I win.”

 

“I guess you do,” Jared drags Misha’s mouth down by the back of his neck and kisses him. This is bad; Misha tastes as good as he looks.

 

Misha’s lips part and Jared dips his tongue in, learning the warmth and softness of his tongue. A whimper slips through their lips, and Jared is fighting the urge to jerk his hips up into Misha’s at the sound. Misha pulls away, breathless, peering down at Jared like he’s some alien. And then he sighs.

 

“Maybe you're right about this job,” Misha admits, “but I bet you I can keep you pinned down.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Jared tries to push Misha off.

 

Misha slips his hand in Jared’s jogging pants, wrapping his fingers around his length and tugs. Jared lets out an embarrassing, strangled croak. It only gets louder when Misha starts twisting his wrist.

 

Jared nods, biting his lip to keep his noises in check, “You win.”

 

Misha nods, too, “Told you.”

 

Misha stands and leaves Jared there with his hard-on.

 

“What are you doing?” Jared says undignified, overtaken by lust.

 

“We have a mission,” Misha grins, buttoning up the shirt Jared gave him to wear.

 

“And you blew our cover,” Jared says matter-of-factly. He sits up a bit, “You should be blowing something else to make it up to me.”

 

Misha scratches his chin, “That can be arranged, if you put in a good word for me.”

 

“They could see us by satellite, Misha,” Jared chuckles.

 

“Damn it. So what can I get out of you?” Misha says, but he’s already undressing, his shirt falling off his shoulders to the ground.

 

“Besides moans? My unabashed praises,” Jared bats his lashes, his erection practically begging to be touched by Misha again.

 

Misha sits on Jared’s lap, wrapping his arms around his neck, “I guess that'll have to do.”

 

\----------

 

Two blowjobs, three hand-jobs, one intense wall-sex session later and Misha is satisfied with what he _got_ out of Jared.

 

Jared has probably been asleep through most of it, but his dick certainly likes Misha’s way of doing things—outside of work, that is.

 

While petting Jared’s hair as he sleeps, Misha suddenly remembers his supervisor telling him to never get involved with people at work. Especially not Jared Padalecki. One rule could be broken, right? And if Misha’s not going back to work there, then he really isn’t breaking any rules. Misha crowds closer to Jared, and starts rutting his hips against Jared’s back.

 

One more time couldn’t hurt.


End file.
